


Decadence

by ChaosMidge (NotQuiteInsane)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Corsetry, Finger Sucking, Fisting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spitroasting, Tailed Hamid, Tails, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotQuiteInsane/pseuds/ChaosMidge
Summary: They're undercover, is the excuse that Wilde gives Hamid. It doesn't go very far to explaining why he's half naked on the couch. Hamid, on the other hand, is almost fully naked, curled into his side with a hand possessively over his bare shoulders. They'd been speaking to a baron with connections to so-and-so, information on who-knows-what. Usually, Hamid would have been overwhelmingly interested, but frankly, he is distracted.Some shameless pwp.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Decadence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skvadern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skvadern/gifts), [2ndActivatorOfCaspases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ndActivatorOfCaspases/gifts).



> When In Rome? Thank you. Bless all y'all.
> 
> Inspired by the lovely piece of art below. Credit to snakewife.tumblr.com <3 ilu

They're undercover, is the excuse that Wilde gives Hamid. It doesn't go very far to explaining why he's half naked on the couch. Hamid, on the other hand, is almost fully naked, curled into his side with a hand possessively over his bare shoulders. They'd been speaking to a baron with connections to so-and-so, information on who-knows-what. Usually, Hamid would have been overwhelmingly interested, but frankly, he is distracted.

Wilde cuts an appealing shape in tight leather trousers, a fur-collared coat, and not much else. He holds a glass of champagne delicately in the hand not tracing little circles into Hamid's shoulder.

The theme of the party had been "bedroom-eyes", allegedly, which is why they are both sporting custom corsetry that Wilde had rustled up from somewhere.

Hamid _had_ been wearing a pair of tight-fitting pants and a lacey shrug, but they’ve been discarded somewhere by Wilde’s wandering hands. His thighs, arse, and tail are on full display.

He has to admit that the grazing touches are welcome. The air is chilly and the flush that rises in the wake of Wilde’s touches is very nice. The way his hand can cover a mouthwatering span of Hamid’s back is also quite appealing, he admits to himself privately.

There is no way Wilde is fooled, though. Not when it comes to this. He knows Hamid too well.

So, when his fingers spread across Hamid’s heated skin and begin to drift down to the laces of his corset, its unsurprising that his nails are doing a clever dance across the small scales scattered across the span. Hamid’s eyes flicker up to Wilde, but the tall man’s gaze is still on the baron, conversation flowing freely between the two of them.

The baron excuses himself a few minutes later and Hamid breathes a small sigh of relief.

“Doing alright there, my dear?” Wilde’s voice is smooth, accent still firmly under his control despite the number of glasses of champagne he’s downed in the name of pleasantries. Hamid knows from experience that by now, a bit of brogue would usually have emerged in the shape of his vowels. Perhaps it is also something to do with the aristocratic atmosphere. Something to prove.

“It’s a lot to remember,” Hamid says quietly, toying with the fur at Wilde’s collar. “I know I’m supposed to be undercover as your plaything, but it’s also hard to concentrate when I feel like everyone’s eyes are undressing me, Oscar.”

“You are quite undressed already,” Wilde points out with a grin and takes another sip of champagne. “Only a bit of fabric and a few stays left to go.”

Hamid playfully smack’s Wilde’s bare chest with the back of his hand. He tries not to think about how small the motion looks.

He bites his lip.

Wilde notices.

“Hey, now.” Gentle fingers pull at his chin and he releases the lip from between his teeth. “Keep doing that and I’m going to think you’re nervous about something, darling.”

Hamid looks up at Wilde, those fingers still on his chin and swallows. Wilde’s eyes follow the motion of his throat. Slowly, almost in an exploratory manner, the fingers gripping Hamid’s chin shift a little. His thumb presses at the line of Hamid’s lips.

The halfling feels his breath stutter as he opens his mouth and lets the finger slip in. He’s still making eye contact and can’t help the heat that blooms in his chest as he runs his tongue over the pad of Wilde’s thumb.

The heat runs lower when Wilde’s eyes darken perceptibly. He withdraws his thumb from Hamid’s mouth.

“Wh—” Hamid’s protest at the removal is quickly silenced when Wilde’s forefinger presses at the seam of his lips. His eyes widen and his tongue flickers out to taste. Both his hands come up to hold Wilde’s and he lets the finger slip into the wet heat of his mouth.

The slow breath that Wilde lets out in response is a reward in of itself.

Concentrating on the taste and texture of Wilde’s fingers, Hamid’s eyes flutter closed.

He feels Wilde’s other hand on his chin and hears him say, "No, no, darling. I'd like them open if it's all the same to you."

Hamid's eyes flick open, startled. Sometime between closing his eyes and opening them again, Wilde has ditched the glass of champagne and made it clear that his full attention is on the halfling curled in at his side.

Wilde puts another finger in Hamid's mouth and the way his lips stretch around them is absolutely decadent.

Hamid's tongue dips between the fingers, coating them with spit and marveling at how they fill him.

Meanwhile, the hand that was on his chin is venturing lower, picking its way down the laces on Hamid's back, twisting them a little, checking their tension, pressing into the skin where it's open. He gets to bottom edge of the corset and plays with the little bits of lace at the bottom, then grabs Hamid's whole arsecheek in one hand. Hamid whimpers around the fingers in his mouth and tries not to grind down into Wilde's lap because at some point that’s where he ended up. He keens at the feeling of that hand, how large it is, like he could cover both Hamid's cheeks with one quick slap. It's like Wilde knows exactly what he's thinking, and gives a swift smack across Hamid's bum. The halfling moans around Wilde's fingers and lets them out of his mouth, a string of saliva breaking between them and his lips.

"Oscar" he whispers, and tries to close the distance for a kiss, but Wilde pulls back on the corset laces and keeps him at a distance.

"Now, now, Hamid. We have appearances to maintain," Wilde says, the light in his eyes dancing wickedly. "Wouldn't want to be too familiar, would we?" He punctuates this by sliding a single questing finger down Hamid's crack to rest over his hole.

Hamid whines and his eyes flick down to Wilde's fingers, still glistening with spit. "Umm..."

Wilde's coy smile is the only answer he gets aside from that hand swapping in and rubbing in a slick circle around his hole.

"Darling, I would love to see how many of these you can fit," Wilde mutters into Hamid's pointed ear, "But honestly, I don't know if we have the... necessary materials right now."

Hamid visibly swallows and bites his lip. "I'm... umm... what if we..." He comes up on his knees a little, straddling Wilde's lap as he is, and then guides Wilde's hand to his opening where there is an admirable amount of slick already gathering. "You could use that? To... to... for my arse, I mean."

Wilde's eyes widen fractionally, and the little smile widens perceptibly. "Oh, my little darling. What a grand idea. And you are already soaking, aren't you? All from sucking on my fingers? You shouldn't have." Two of Wilde's fingers dip into Hamid's cunt and gods isn't that a feeling, a bit of a stretch just from that and Hamid doesn't know how he's going to get through this without just coming on Wilde's clever fingers, gods he needs to stop doing _that_ —

"Oscar," he whines.

"Yes, dear? Use your words."

Hamid bites the inside of his cheek and looks away, but again, Wilde's fingers come to his chin. They’re slick and Hamid can smell himself on them, can feel Wilde rubbing it into the skin beneath his chin.

"What did I say about looking at me, little one?"

Hamid meets Wilde's eyes because he knows he can't resist the man. (He gets a bit of a thrill at the thought that even if he wanted to resist, Wilde could just use his bulk to hold him down. The clever fingers at his chin hint enough at that.) "Please don't stop," Hamid whispers, voice just audible over the sounds of the party around them. "Please don't, but I just—I'm afraid I'll—"

"Just don't come until I say so, then." Wilde's smile is unending, his wicked eyes feel like an abyss that Hamid could swim in forever.

Hamid nods.

Wilde's fingers go back to his cunt, pressing in slowly at first, and then, in long, gentle strokes, deeper. Hamid rocks against the hand, torn between wanting some pressure on the nub of his cock and being able to control himself enough to wait to come. He really wants to wait. For Wilde. For that smile and the clever twist of his fingers. Gods, what is this man doing to him? The fingers go deeper and Hamid tries to relax into the sensations that are filling him up. It's a little more difficult when Wilde adds a third finger, but he bites his lip and arches his back, widening his stance—despite shaking legs—to give better access. This is—this is just for the lubricant. This is the appetizer. This is—

"Oh, you're taking them so well, aren't you?" Wilde's voice is a croon in his ear and when did the man move? When did Hamid close his eyes again? Why didn't Wilde correct him?

Hamid bites back a gasp at a particularly wicked crook of the fingers inside him and has to put a hand on Wilde's shoulder to steady himself. The fur under his fingers feels phenomenal.

Then comes the clincher. "How would you like another? Maybe I should just fist you like this instead? You're already all wet here. Then, after you've come on my hand, I'll use that to slick myself up. What do you think? You want my cock in your ass?"

The words are almost too much to take. Instead of saying anything, Hamid just nods quietly, wishing he hand fingers in his mouth to give him an excuse. But no, there are fingers inside of him and there's another bracing hand engulfing his arsecheek and gods but Wilde needs more hands.

(The faint thought comes that the two of them could get someone else to come help, but—)

Wilde pauses and examines Hamid's face for discomfort. Finding none, he simply lets his three fingers rest inside of Hamid. "What do you need, darling?"

Hamid is near panting and wow, but it's a turn on for Wilde's voice to be so unbothered while simultaneously be filling his cunt. "I... I don't think I can keep supporting myself. Can we...?"

"Change it up? Oh, most certainly." Without warning, Wilde withdraws his fingers and grabs Hamid's hips. He lifts him bodily off of his lap and places him on the couch next to him. Hamid gets his hands and knees under himself and looks back over his shoulder. Nods. He can do this. Wilde examines the presented posterior and nods, as if in approval. Hamid is completely unprepared when Wilde spreads his cheeks and licks along the underside of his cock, all the way up his cunt. "Delicious," comes the voice and Hamid feels himself clench quite without his permission.

"Fuck," he murmurs under his breath and buries his face in his arms. He can feel Wilde blowing air gently across his slick lips and he can feel the boning of the corset digging into his ribs and he can feel the tightness of the lacing and then—

And then Wilde puts his fingers back to work and it's all Hamid can do not to shove himself back onto them. It's just the three fingers, but the angle now is different. When a fourth finger comes in to join the other three, Hamid takes it and moans, basically spearing himself backwards. He feels a tug on the corset laces that only increases the pressure around his opening. He's stretched so wide and it feels amazing, heat running through him like an electric shock, liquid and intense and everything and gods why hadn't they done this before? Why hadn't Hamid thought of this the first time Wilde put his huge hand on Hamid's shoulder and steered him in the right direction? Through the haze of pleasure, Hamid realizes that Wilde is saying something and struggles to hear. He becomes immediately aware that the words are not directed at him.

"Oh, yes. He's coming along quite nicely, thank you for asking.”

Another voice answers. "A lovely sight, I must admit. One of the prettier things on display tonight, don't you think?"

"Oh, absolutely. He's _oh_ so good at opening up for me." Is if to punctuate this point, Wilde gives a particularly strong press forward and Hamid cries out at the feeling of his knuckles pressing at his opening. "Would you look at that? He's just greedy for more, too!"

"Perhaps he needs a distraction to help him relax?"

Wilde's hand on the corset lacing pulls Hamid a little bit upright and he musters enough willpower to look back at the man over his shoulder. He distantly realizes there are tears streaking down his face. When had that happened?

"Darling," Wilde drawls in an almost bored tone. "This nice gentleman is offering you a bit of a treat, if you'd like it."

Hamid turns his head, sees the man in question, and heat fills every inch of him.

_Gideon._

Recognition sparks across Gideon's face and the rise of his eyebrows is accompanied by a tutted, "Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Or perhaps been raised up. You are in good company here, after all."

"G-Gideon," Hamid says, panting a little bit and trying to pull himself up a little straighter. It doesn't work, of course, not with Wilde's left hand at his back and his right hand knuckles deep in his cunt. "What a surprise! I'm—hnn—delighted to see you here. Oscar said you—" he shudders as Wilde's fingers tighten in his laces. "—said you had something for me?"

And honestly, he's so fucked out at this point, so into what's happening, that he's mostly forgotten they're meant to be undercover. Perhaps if he had remembered, he would have taken this as a good opportunity to curry favor and get some information, but mostly, he's just remembering university and how much he'd enjoyed sucking Gideon's cock behind the rugby pitch between classes, hand in his hair, spit dripping sloppy around his mouth.

"Oh, yes. Thought I would provide you a bit of distraction from what might be a bit of a... hmm... trying situation."

Gideon smiles and unzips his trousers. They're tight enough that Hamid can see that he's already hard. When his cock is pulled out and Gideon kneels on the couch in front of him, Hamid's mouth is nearly watering with anticipation. He leans down and suckles at the head, reveling in the familiar stretch of his mouth around it, breathing in a smell that hasn't been his for a long while now. Gideon sighs contentedly and his hands come to rest on Hamid's head, familiar and long fingered. If he pulls at Hamid's hair a little too tightly, Hamid isn't going to complain. He's just going to take it as his cue to slide farther down and moan around the cock stretching his lips.

Hamid loves blowing humans. Gods, but does he love it.

His back arches as he pushes forward onto Gideon's cock, licking around the girth and sucking at intervals, then pulling back as he pushes himself back on Wilde's fingers. There's a grounding hand on his lower back that keeps him from losing his entire mind, but he can't help it if he's getting sloppy around Gideon. The man doesn't seem to mind, if the way he's pulling Hamid farther down onto his cock is anything to go by. Hamid is just enough out of it, bathing in the smells of sex and sweat and being used like this, that when the insistent press of Wilde's thumb begins to press in alongside his other four fingers, Hamid doesn't manage to hold back his keening whine. The vibration of it makes Gideon moan in response and Wilde gives his ass a squeeze in reward, runs a hand up his tail, and then traps it against the fabric of his corset. Hamid tries to relax, but his body betrays him by clenching down on the intrusion.

"Alright, now, darling. Almost there. Just a little bit more from you and we can have you filled up, just like you like." Wilde's voice is almost sing-song in its cadence and rhythm. "Just a little bit more, sweet thing. You're taking it all so good. The way you're stretched around my hand is incredible, I wish you could see it. I can only imagine what you look like wrapped around this lovely gentleman. Oh, you darling boy, you can do it..."

Hamid, mustering as much concentration as he can, relaxes. His jaw goes loose, and Gideon hits the back of his throat. Wilde's thumb slips through this opening and takes its place inside of him with the other fingers. As the press of fingers and cock inside of him grows to a head, Hamid is lost. He's floating out of his head. He cannot focus on any one thing and instead lets instinct take over, fucking back and forward on flesh and fingers and just takes it all. 

He misses the way Wilde moans at the sight of his fist disappearing into Hamid as he curls his fingers. He misses the heat on Gideon's face as he rocks his hips into Hamid's face and throws his head back. But he doesn't miss the pressure building to a crescendo deep inside of him and the way his cunt is trying to pulse around Wilde's fingers, trying to bear down. He doesn't miss when Gideon comes, filling the back of his throat with hot, bitter salt. (He swallows, of course. It's habit. He always loved the look on Gideon's face when he did that.)

"Fuck, Hamid," comes the wavering lilt of Wilde's voice. Debauched, his control lost for the first time that night. "Fuck, you're so tight, coming around my hand. Gods, do you even know what you look like? You beautiful little thing, taking so much like that. Fuck."

And then Gideon is pulling away, his softening cock falling from Hamid's mouth as he leans into the back of the couch. His dark eyes are closed, basking in the comfort of a job well done. Wilde is pulling Hamid back into himself, even as his hand gently slips free of his now gaping cunt. Hamid doesn't have the muscle left to do anything but slump against his bare chest and bury his face in the softness of the fur collar. He's boneless and sated and so, so warm and everything is a haze of sensation and comfort. Distantly, he hears Gideon thank Wilde for the interlude and leave. But all of his focus is still on his pounding heartbeat and the emptiness inside of him. His cunt is still pulsing faintly with the aftershocks and he doesn't know if he's ever going to be able to come down from this.

Then, there’s a soft hand on his face.

Hamid forces his eyes open to see Wilde smiling down at him with an almost unbearable amount of fondness. "You did beautifully, darling. So well for me."

Hamid hums and tilts his face up toward the man. Wilde leans down and kisses him softly, almost chaste.

"Now," Wilde says against his mouth. "I'm going to go get you something to drink and give you a little bit to rest. And then I think I said we were going to do something with that pretty little arse of yours."


End file.
